


Showtime

by itendswithz



Series: Round of Applause [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blowjobs, Creeper Stiles, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itendswithz/pseuds/itendswithz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles loses Prada, he accidentally sees his neighbor enjoying a late night blowjob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showtime

“Here Prada. Her-ee Prada,” Stiles sings lightly, shaking the bag of dog treats that cost more than his iPhone. “Where the fuck did you go little doggie?”

He exhales once, fighting off the approaching panic attack. If he doesn’t have Lydia’s dog when she gets back from giving a lecture at Yale, she’ll cut his balls off. And while Stiles hasn’t recently used his balls for anything more than some well deserved self-love, he really wants to keep them attached to his body.

He swings the flashlight around brightening streaks of forest, dumpster, brick wall and shrubs. “Pra-da. Who’s the most fabulous dog ever?”

When he doesn’t hear a response, Stiles comes to the only reasonable conclusion: he is fucked. So very fucked.

Leaning against the side of the apartment building, Stiles tries to calm his mind and think of a plan. He’s not really worried about Prada being hit by a car - his apartment is far enough away from downtown that there’s almost no traffic at this time of night. But mountain lions will see Prada as a tasty midnight snack. If he doesn’t find that dog soon… he doesn’t even want to think about what Lydia will do when she finds out he let a cougar **eat** her puppy.

It’s on the second exhale that Stiles realizes he’s staring into one of his neighbors apartments, the impossibly hot guy who lives in apartment four. According to the mailboxes out front, the tenant is Derek Hale. Stiles always thought a basement apartment would offer more privacy - being underground and all - but without a curtain obscuring the view, Stiles is able to see directly into the man’s living room. The binds block some of his vision but not enough to really hinder what Stiles _can_ see.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Stiles scans the room for anything interesting. He’s been lusting after the demi-god with perfect shoulders every since he moved into the building and if he can find something to talk about, maybe Stiles will approach the guy next time they see each other. 

The thirst is real.

The man doesn’t have a lot of furniture, just one octopus lamp on the lowest setting, a full bookcase, a weird painting, a black leather couch, a person on the couch. _A person on the couch!_

Stiles rears back quickly. _Did they see? Was he caught preving?_

He knows he should turn around, should keep searching for Prada... but… but maybe Derek is sleeping on his couch. Maybe Stiles can get another peak without the cops being called.

He flicks the flashlight off - just in case any of the other tenants make a late-night trip to the dumpster, he doesn't want to be seen - and moving slowly and oh so carefully, Stiles steps closer to the window. Peering past the blinds, Stiles sees Derek relaxing on his couch, sprawled out, head thrown back, long expanse of neck completely visible.

Shirtless, Derek’s wide, muscular chest is on full display. His light brown nipples are hard as peaks and look so suckable. Stiles can picture himself latching onto those tiny buds, bringing maximum pleasure to Derek.

With his arms stretched along the couch’s back, Stiles can see every inch of skin. Following the ridge of muscle, Stiles traces where leather meets arm to big hands and thick fingers clenching and unclenching erratically.

Squinting and leaning slightly forward, Stiles tries to figure out why his hands are moving weirdly. _Bad dream?_

Before Stiles can get distracted in his own thoughts, movement in his peripheral vision distracts him. Looking down Stiles sees a mop of blond curls moving up and down in a controlled pattern.

Oh.

Oh God.

Stiles’ breathing speeds up and his cock hardens at the realization. He's watching Hale get a blowjob.

Huge thighs opened wide allow for the blond twink to cuddle in close to Derek’s body, slotting perfectly into the V of where hips met leg. A sparse treasure trail ends to the thickest cock Stiles has ever seen and he finds himself impressed someone can get the whole thing in their mouth.

The twink pulls back, letting the hard dick smack against Derek’s toned stomach for a second before pale hands wrap around the base and a pink tongue licks the bulbous head. It’s the most beautiful sight Stiles has ever seen and would fit in perfectly with the Sean Cody porn he’s illegally downloaded to his laptop.

The blond swirls his tongue around the shaft and slowly slips down to the small batch of hair at the base, licking every inch. From there, he moves to lave at Derek’s balls, popping one into his mouth. His slender hands haven’t left Derek’s dick, fingers a blur rapidly jacking off the monster cock.

Stiles pressed the heel of left hand on his growing erection. Fuck. He’s going to be masturbaiting to this memory for the rest of life.

The twink leans down even more, tongue sliding from ball to taint before moving back to the base of the cock. Moving slowly, the man traces a throbbing vein up to the mushroom head before deepthroating the dick again. 

Stiles catches himself rubbing his crotch and god, he should stop...but fuck, Stiles can just imagine having that dick in his mouth. The heavy weight forcing his tongue down as it pushes into his throat. Stiles pushes the palm of his hand down harder, building friction as he chases an orgasm. 

He bites down on the knuckle of his right forefinger, trying to silence any gasp or moan. Stiles has always been vocal person but now is not the time. He closes his eyes and tilting his head up, Stiles let his mind project being at Derek’s knees. He pictures feel of Derek’s large hands on his face, back of his head. Envisions the grunt and groan Hale would make as he rams in, fucking Stiles’ face the way only a big dicked man could.

Stiles can’t stop the moan that slips past his hand at the thought of Derek towering over him.

Panicked, Stiles opens his eyes and looks back into the apartment where a pair of bright blue eyes shine back. _Shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’ve been caught._

Paralyzed by fear, Stiles can only watch as Derek holds the twink’s head against his crotch, stands and turns 90 degrees to give Stiles and even better view of his cock stretching lips. He smirks and then pulls the twink’s head up and off his giant dick, a glob of saliva and precum dripping out of the man’s mouth. Derek keeps eye contact with Stiles as he draws his hips back and then thrusts forward, cock sliding between pale pink lips. Hale’s grips tightens impossibly firmer and he really starts to fuck the blond’s face, hips moving fast, balls slapping against chin. 

Stiles wants to move, wants to run away but he can’t think anything beyond staring at the scene in front of him. His flagging erection flares back to life harder than anything Stiles has ever felt before. He watches mesmerized as Derek continues to fuck harder and harder. He slams in, so deep that the blond’s nose is buried into a thicket of dark curls, before stilling.

Derek shakes and Stiles realizes that Derek is coming. Coming down that twink’s throat. He didn’t even give the blond a chance to breath before choking him with jizz.

It’s the thought of being forced to swallow Derek’s hot load that sends Stiles over the edge, creaming his pants like when he was 17 and Heather gave him a handjob during one of her parties.

He sags against the building, watching in awe as Derek’s dick, still hard, slips out of the twink. He finally breaks eye contact with Stiles to lean down and kiss the young man, hands gentle as clears away tear tracks. It’s a soft moment and Stiles feels guilty for his prying.

With come drying in his pants, making his underwear sticky and messy, Stiles steps back only to trip over a small, fluffy animal. He flails on the way down, head smacking into the dirt hard. He squeals in fear when a wet, sandpaper-y thing licks across this face, brushing against his mouth and nose.

Shaking his arm until his hand finds the flashlight, Stiles pushes the beast off him, sits up and points the light at whatever creature is trying to eat him. Prada barks once before tearing into the treat bag, scattering the tiny meat pieces all around.

“Holy fuck,” Stiles exhales. He leans forward, hooking an arm around the tiny dog. “Prada! There you are!”

With a second glance to Derek’s window, Stiles picks up Prada and carries the dog back to his apartment building’s back door. Unlocking the door, he steps in and looks down the stairs to where he can see some of the red door that’ll lead into Derek’s apartment. He sighs once, hikes the pomeranian higher up his hip and heads up to the third floor to his place. Prada’s tongue lolling the entire time. In the morning he’ll give the mutt a bath and make sure he’ll pass Lydia’s inspection.

_A Month Later_

Stiles towels off, not bothering to put on pajamas, just slipping on some clean boxer shorts. One of the benefits to living alone is being about to walk around nearly naked. He spreads the towel out over his frumpy couch and plops down and turns on the television. His flicking through the channels, trying to find something watch when he hear someone knocking on his apartment door.

“One minute,” he yells, glancing at the clock on the screen. _10:37. Who the fuck wants to see him at 10:37 on Wednesday?_. When the knocking continues, he yells out “Coming.”

Stiles wraps a hand around the knob before twisting it and opening the door. He’s greeted by the sight of Derek Hale and the twink Stiles watch deep throat him last week.

“Can...can I help you?” Stiles mumbles, looking down and oh God, he’s not wearing any pants.

Derek pushes past Stiles, arm in arm with the twink. The pair walk into the middle of his living room and look around. When Stiles gains enough of his mental functioning back, he closes the door and turns to see Derek and his boyfriend with matching grins. Both are showing a little too much teeth. Feral.

Stiles steps backwards, bare back against the door. “Ummm…..”

“I know a way you can help,” the boyfriend says.

“Don’t be mean Isaac,” Derek says, though his smug smile does little to enforce the command. “I just think you should return the favor, Stilinski.”

“The favor?” Stiles asks, fear sliding down his spine.

“Yeah,” Isaac says, “I think you owe me a show.” He voices drops lecherous and he wiggles his eyebrows. 

And then Derek pulls off his henley and steps forward. Apparently it’s showtime.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles is completely on board with the show. If he wasn't he would have kick Derek and Isaac out of his place. He's just surprised is all.


End file.
